The Abnormal Animals
by Smilies rule
Summary: A story concerning the highly unfortunate Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. If you do not like such dastardly things such as large fires, dancing jaguars, or teensy bank managers, then do not click here. PLS R&R! do i have to beg?
1. Please Note

A/N: PLEASE NOTE: I do not own any of these:  
Violet, Klaus, Sunny Baudelaire, Isadora, Duncan, Quigley Quagmire, V.F.D. (initials only), I.D.V., Count Olaf, Esme Squalor.

This story is: a) NOT my own version of the Carnivorous Carnival, no matter how much they seem alike;

b) NOT a follow-on to ANY of the previous stories, regardless of characters and notebooks;

c) NOT happy.

I had only read up to book nine when I started this story, but I read book ten halfway through, which kinda made things complicated about where this story fitted in (even though it is not a follow-up), and certain information about the whereabouts of Quigley Quagmire. So please do not bombard me with reviews stating exactly which pieces of info I have either missed out, or gotten wrong.

For a suggestion of where this would fit in (even though it is NOT a follow on), I would suggest after book seven and before book eight. They do not have the Snicket page, and do not know about the survivor.  
Thank you for your patience. Now the story can begin...  
  
**_I n t r o d u c t i o n  
  
_**

You are either mental or half-blind, or you have not read the category properly: A Series of Unfortunate Events, because you have clicked on the link to this story. You may know that the original books involve the highly unfortunate Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, and so this fanfiction story will, too. So if I were you, I would either click on the -- BACK button, a few times, and read a fanfiction story of The Littlest Elf, which is a lot happier than this story, or even better, shut this computer down. So, for the last time, you have made a mistake. Do not read on.  
  
With all due respect,

Gnatz


	2. A new carer

_C h a p t e r_  **One**

The town of Carniville is host to many shows, circuses, and carnivals; you name it, it's there.  
But these are not the harmless kiddie-type joy festivals; the circuses give previews of hideous monsters, such as the Batting Bat: an oversized bat who strikes people with a baseball bat, and the Wailing Wolf- Man, who, as you may guess, scares the audience by wailing loudly in their ears.  
You may think that the story starts happily, with the Baudelaire orphans, Violet, Klaus, and Sunny, far away from Carniville, but those of you out there with a knowledge of these children know that they are extremely unlucky and will sooner or later wind up at this place.  
The misfortune of the Baudelaire children began when their mansion burned down, killing their parents but leaving a huge sum of money for the orphans to inherit when the oldest, Violet, came of age.  
Due to the death of their parents, the Baudelaires were forced to live with Count Olaf, a terribly repugnant figure with one hairy and scraggly eyebrow, and a tattoo of an eye on his left ankle. He had an unfortunate dislike for the children, but a great liking for their money. Olaf would do anything to get his hands on it: even if it meant killing the poor children, which in this case means 'poor and helpless' as oppose to 'poor without money' (even though at this stage of the story, they are without money).  
If anything mentioned so far has caused you any distress whatsoever, please feel free to go back and find another story.

Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire were all sitting in a packed tube station, accompanied by Mr. Poe. They were waiting for their Great-Aunt Zenk to come back from her holiday in Afghanistan, so she could take care of the children until the next misfortune occurred, which often does after a short time. (She wasn't really their aunt, but as always, like me, we are all forced to call someone by a false name, or a title that shows respect. It just so happened that Mr. Poe was unable to find a relative of the Baudelaires, for them to live with, but apparently she was one of the closest friends to Mrs. Baudelaire as could be found.)  
"How do you think she'll be like?" Klaus asked Violet.  
"I hope she's as nice as Uncle Monty, "replied Violet with an air of great longing.  
"Meebo," said Sunny silently, which meant something along the lines of "me too." Even though Sunny was still an infant, and she still spoke in a manner that only the Baudelaires themselves, and a few others, recognised, her speech was getting better.  
"Twelve O' clock train from Airhead Airport arriving now," signalled the announcer.  
A train pulled up into the now deserted platform. The doors opened, and a tall, slim figure in black stepped confidently out of the train compartment.  
"Ah! You must be ze Baudelaires! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Delphine Zenk, but you must address me as Aunt Zenk." Her voice was stern, like a headmistress, and thick with a French accent. She also spoke quickly, as though she had an urgent need to go somewhere, fast.  
"Come on, Violet, Klaus, Sunny, and…"  
"Poe. Mr. Poe."  
"...Mr. Poe. We don't have all day, and your luggage won't pick itself up, so out to ze car." She marched off.  
"She doesn't seem very nice," Violet commented.  
"Strik!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something like, "She's very strict."  
"Where does she live, Mr. Poe?" Klaus asked. "Is it far?"  
"Well, I don't know much geography, but I suppose it is quite far. Around five hours by car. With rest stops, of course!" chuckled Mr. Poe, as he saw the look on Klaus' face. "Do you have any books with you?"  
"No, not with me," Klaus replied, wondering how Mr. Poe could see any books in his luggage. "Why?"  
"Well, you can borrow some of mine. You'll need them," Mr. Poe replied. "She lives in Carniville."


	3. Welcome

_C h a p t e r_  **Two**

You may or may not have had the experience of knowing whether something is good or bad when you are being told about it. You may be embarrassed by this feeling, be made nervous by it, or sometimes relieved. For example, if you were told that you were going to have crab for dinner for the first time, you would think that it is good. But you might find, after you have eaten it, that you were allergic to crab, and this would be very, very bad, and that would definitely make you nervous about crabs.

            Now it was Sunny who was having this experience, as she was only an infant. As a baby, she had loved the carnivals that she had been to with her brother, sister, and parents, and she smiled joyfully as the memories came flooding back.

            "Carnival!" Sunny shrieked.

            But Violet replied, "No, Sunny, I don't think we're going to be watching many carnivals there." To her and Klaus, Carniville meant nothing less than 'unfortunate'.

            "Watch carnivals?" boomed a voice, signifying – a word which here means 'indicating' – the return of Aunt Zenk. "No, you are going to be working at one," she said, with a sly grin.

            Now Violet and Klaus looked at one another with pleasure. Maybe this guardian wasn't going to be so bad after all. They just hoped that Count Olaf wouldn't show up…

            "Well, what are you standing there, waiting for? Chop, chop, we have work to do!"

            The three overwrought orphans – the word 'overwrought' here means 'apprehensive' – picked their luggage up, and climbed into the car, immediately aware of the heavy scent of French perfume.

            A few hours later, there was nothing but silence inside the posh automobile. Mr. Poe was staring out of the window, occasionally erupting with brief fits of coughing, although it had lessened slightly with the aid of some cough medicine that his wife had, at long last, persuaded him to take. Violet had her hair tied up in a ribbon, and the gears inside her head were whirring and clanking, today thinking of an invention that would prevent the smell of French perfume reaching one's nose. Sunny was curled up in a ball on Klaus' lap, sleeping. Klaus himself was reading, only mildly interested in one of the many books Mr. Poe had lent him: _The Financial History of Mulctuary Money Management_. Aunt Zenk was driving the car, also keeping herself to herself, a phrase which here means, 'not saying anything'. Then –

            "We're here."

            Sunny jolted awake, Violet snapped out of her dream-like state, and Klaus looked up from his book. The all looked out of the window and gasped with awe.

            Surrounding them was an open field, with mountain scenery. But instead of the usual goats and sheep that you would normally see in the great outdoors, the field was jam-packed with massive circus tents, tepees and huts, tall poles with lights streaming and flashing and winking at the car and everywhere… and the rest of the night air was lent to the banners.

            Big banners, tall banners, short banners, small banners, banners of every colour of the rainbow, glow-in-the-dark banners, banners with stars, banners reading 'welcome', or 'have a nice day', or 'C.P.', or 'I.D.V.', or 'V.F.D.' –

            The three Baudelaires gasped again, and looked at each other. Could this be the answer to the mystery of V.F.D.? Slowly, they clambered out of the car, with Aunt Zenk and Mr. Poe.

            "You will be staying in zat tent zere, next to ze V.F.D.," informed Aunt Zenk.

            Violet, Klaus, and Sunny walked cautiously up to the tent labelled 'I.D.V.', for on closer inspection of the 'V.F.D.' tent, it was quivering slightly. Then, a humungous creature bounded out of the V.F.D. tent, and leapt right at the Baudelaires.


	4. The reunion

A/N: Thank you for reviewing!!

I must say to 'ME!' (A reviewer) that you are very nearly right!! Read on and see what it is!!

If you find yourself falling asleep during reading this chapter, do not blame yourself. I nearly gave up writing this story because I was so bored during this chapter! But please do no let this hinder you from reading this: by all means, read on.

But, in the role of Lemony Snicket, I would deeply advise you not to read on, due to the unspeakable horrors, which lurk inside this chapter.

At this point, I had read a description of the tenth book, which only told me Quigley was alive. (Only (!) I was so upset! But, never mind…)

_C h a p t e r_ **Three**

Sorry to leave you hanging there, but being in a cave where a hungry bear has just woken up is not a very good place to write an account of these events, and I had to make a quick getaway.

The siblings screamed and tried to run away, but it was only when Sunny shouted 'STOP!' did they realise that the creature was only trying to lick their faces – it was a huge dingo. The Baudelaires paused, then relaxed and laughed, each taking it in turns to stroke the enormous animal, as a person came of the V.F.D. tent.

"Hello," he said. He was tall, had short hair, and seemed vaguely familiar. "I heard there were new residents at the I.D.V. tent. You will be working in the Abnormal Animals section. We hope you enjoy your stay at the Fun Festival."

"I'm sure we will," replied Violet, and, _for the first time_, she thought, _I meant it_.

"Inita?" asked Sunny.

The boy looked oddly at Sunny. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"What our sister means," Klaus explained quickly, "is if every tent here is named with initials."

"Oh, that, yeah. Don't ask me why, though. I do know what some of them stand for…"

He pointed to each tent in turn, then named them, counting on his fingers.

"Those ones down there, they're personal tents, for the staff, you know. That's why they always have the initials 'ST' before the members' initials. To the left of them, there are the visitors' tents. Then these tents, here, are the animal tents. They house the animals, of course, and the people who look after them. So here in the V.F.D. tent, I look after the Very Friendly Dingoes, along with two others, also my siblings. We're triplets, and orphans, you see. You'll be working with the I.D.V., which is very rare. You are lucky, but I hope you don't mind living with a snake."

"Snake?" asked the three siblings as one.

"Oh, yes. Your snake is called the Incredibly Deadly Viper. But don't be fooled. It's a –"

"Misnomer, we know," finished Klaus. "We lived with the very same snake last year."

"You _lived_ with it?" asked the boy in awe.

"Yes, with our guardian, Uncle Monty," Violet said.

"Snake!" shrieked Sunny, throwing her hands up into the air.

"It was Sunny's favourite snake," translated Violet sadly, with a sigh.

"You sound like you've had a rough time, to come to this place," said the boy. "It once was a 'last resort' camp for orphans. Run by some guy with an eye on his ankle…"

"Count Olaf?" Klaus asked quietly.

"Is he here?" inquired Violet anxiously.

"No! No! No!" shouted Sunny, which meant something along the lines of "I hope not!"

"You've met?" he asked in wonder.

"Let's go inside, we'll tell you everything you need to know," suggested Violet. "Besides, it is getting a little cold out here…"

"Good idea," said the boy. They were just about to turn around and follow him into the tent, when Klaus suddenly asked,

"What's your name? You seem familiar."

The boy smiled. A nice, warm smile. "Of course, we have not introduced ourselves. My name's Quigley. Quigley Quagmire."

The name seemed familiar, too.

"Well, I'm Violet," said she.

"I'm Klaus," said he.

"Sunny!" shrieked she. "Baudelaire!" she added.

"Well - "

"Quigley?" asked a female voice, emerging from the tent. "Is anything -"

"Isadora?" asked Klaus.

The girl gasped and nearly dropped the black notebook she was holding, while rushing back into the tent. A second later, a boy emerged with her.

"Duncan?" asked Violet.

"Baudelaires?" asked Duncan, the last Quagmire. "Come in, come in!"

So in they went, into the large and colourful tent of V.F.D., where the Baudelaire siblings and the Quagmire triplets informed each other about their experiences until they were all up to date. It appeared that Quigley, as the survivor of another mysterious fire, had taken refuge in some mountains, and it was still oblivious to him how he had got there.

"I mean, (Quigley was saying) one minute, I was standing in the middle of ashes and ruins, staring mournfully at the bodies of my dead parents – _our_ dead parents. I was crying so much; I had no idea where Duncan and Isadora were, and I was soon in a disturbed sleep. Somebody must have found me because the next thing I knew was that I was all alone, with mountains all around me…"

They continued well into the night and it was only when a V.F.D. dingo came and started drooling on Sunny, did they leave.

On entering the I.D.V. tent, they noticed it was much different to the V.F.D. tent. In fact, they had never seen anything that looked less like a tent.

The inside was done up so it was made to look like a rainforest: the trees, (bonsai trees) the ferns, even the humidity. Apparently the Incredibly Deadly Viper liked rainforests, or it just wanted to camouflage.

Violet, Klaus and Sunny changed and went to sleep in separate compartments of the tent, (just as green) happier than they had been for most of their lives; they were with their friends and a certain reptile that Sunny was fond of. Alas, I cannot say that they had an untroubled sleep, for the slumber of the Baudelaires will never be untroubled, as the fateful day at the beach will always stay in their minds, haunt their dreams…

A/N: Well! There we go! That's chapter 3. Now for the little stars I put…

Sorry to make the Baudelaires seem quite dumb and forgetful at this moment, it was just that the meeting would have less of an impact if they had remembered them straight away.

Is Isadora's notebook black? I only own books 1-4, not 5, so I don't know what colour her notebook is, so I guessed.

Here comes the second part of the _Author's Note_…

When Quigley was up in the mountains, he visited the Hotel Denouement, who sent him down to the Fun Festival. Before this, as the Hotel Denouement is up in the mountains, (so I think) Hector and his self-sustaining hot air machine had crashed a few miles away, and Hector and the Quagmires had gone to the Hotel for shelter. Isadora and Duncan met Quigley, and they all were sent to the circus together. Hector stayed at the Hotel Denouement.

(This just seems all too convenient, doesn't it? And too happy. But believe me; it gets worse… much worse… mwahaha!) Please R&R!!


	5. Rigorous Rehearsals

_C h a p t e r_  **Four**

The next morning, the six children awoke to the sound of African calypso music. It is nice to be woken up like this, if you are in a circus tent, where the atmosphere is happy and joyful, but not if, like me, you are in the Tower of London's torture chamber, where they play songs in a minor key to upset you further.

            "That's nice music," Violet commented, after washing and dressing, and coming into the central part of the tent, to meet Klaus and Sunny. "What's it played on?"

            "It's African calypso music," replied Klaus, having read a book on African culture when he was nine. "It's played on a steel drum with different areas of varying pitch."

            "Sleep!" Sunny shrieked, which probably meant something like, "it makes me want to go back to sleep, even though we've just woken up."

            "Yes, it is very relaxing," said Klaus, as they walked out into the open air, the Incredibly Deadly Viper slithering out joyfully behind Sunny.

            Outside, the three Baudelaires met up with the Quagmire triplets, who were already walking up to the central circus tent.

            "Hello," they said as one.

            "Good morning," the Baudelaires replied politely, that is, of course, apart from Sunny, who simply shrieked "morning!" at the top of her voice, making the birds at the top of the circus tent flutter away.

            They walked up to the tent, the Quagmires informing the Baudelaires on what to do and where to go after they had entered it.

            The large red-and-yellow tent was even more colossal – a word which here means 'huge' – than the Baudelaires had supposed, when they had first seen it. There was a ring in the centre of it, bordering the tall benches, which were empty at the moment but would soon fill up with the masses of circus workers attending. At the far end of the ring, there was a large square opening, covered with bead chains. Multicoloured lights filled every inch of the ceiling, if you could call it that. Three trapezes hung, swinging slightly, next to a long tightrope, which was being tightened and tested. It was your typical circus tent. What was there to be afraid of? Little did everybody know that trouble was lurking, literally, around the corner.

            Violet, Klaus, Sunny, Duncan, Isadora and Quigley all sat down on the uppermost benches, waiting for something to happen, in the meantime, chatting animatedly  - a word which here means 'energetically' – amongst themselves. The lights, bright and twinkling, suddenly dimmed. The benches were now packed with anticipating workers, and their animals; a Very Friendly Dingo and the Incredibly Deadly Viper had followed the six children into the tent. Now, the Baudelaires saw, there were a lot more circus workers than one would think: the group of trapeze artists in their leotards in one area; the lion trainers in another; the tightrope walkers, the fire breathers, the jugglers… all the way down to the clowns.

            Just as if in a real show, a drum roll started as the lights were lowered. A hooded figure in a sweeping black cape emerged from the shadows, into the centre of the circus ring. It was dark, but everybody could see it nevertheless. A dozen more of these figures came out and formed a semicircle, facing the spectators. The circus theme started to play – but was made all the more eerie by the fact that it was in a minor key. To this, the hooded figures started to sing – no, it was more of a chant. The audience held its breath and strained its ears – a phrase which here means 'listened very closely' – to catch every chilling word of the heartless, cold song. Klaus and Isadora, above all, were fascinated by its complex structure and meaning, of which only they – just like the scientific principles of the conversion and bending of light, which could only be understood by Violet and a few others – could understand.

            "We hope you enjoy the show at

            Fun festival today,

            Where all manner of cold, dark creatures

            Come, nestle here, and play.

            First there are the Batting Bats,

            Whose screech will pierce your ears,

            And maybe playing baseball

            Will heighten your worst fears.

            Then there is the Wolf-Man,

            Who detests quiet noises.

            He'll scream at one hundred decibels,

            In one hundred different poises.

            Believe us, there are many more

            Who take pride in seeing your fear.

            But don't scream when they scare you:

            'The world is quiet here.'"

It would only seem fitting in this episode of unfortunate events that the poem have a double meaning. The form of this double meaning shall become evident in the future, perhaps, the near future…

            "Wow, that was a great song!" exclaimed Klaus and Isadora.

            "I don't like the sound of the Batting Bats, even though I haven't really been fond of baseball as far as I can remember…" contemplated Violet out loud.

            "It's okay," said Quigley in reply. "The animals, and maybe the people, won't turn against you while you're here, working with us."

            But even as the small glimmer of hope started to rise in the Baudelaire hearts, the familiar big wave of doubt washed it away momentarily. Count Olaf had managed to find them numerous times before, and little could persuade them to think that he wasn't going to this time.

            "Still worrying about Count Olaf?" Duncan asked Violet, putting a reassuring arm around her.

            Violet nodded.

            "Well, I'll tell you what. Here at the circus, as I'm sure you'll know, the ringleader is the… well, leader. He sees and knows all that goes on around here. I'm certain that, with his guards, he'll be able to keep Count Olaf away from you, and you'll never again get a glimpse of that eye on his ankle. You three can go and ask him to keep an eye out for you at lunch, today."

            "Thanks," replied Violet. Then – "Would you care to come with us?"

            "Oh! Umm… well… I…" he stammered, turning a bright pink, yet it was indistinguishable – a word which here means 'you could not see it because it was so dark' – in the dark circus tent. "Umm… sorry, I can't. I'm busy at lunch."

            "Oh. That's okay, then," said Violet, with just a hint of disappointment in her voice.

            As the applause died down, another figure came out of the beaded curtain. It wasn't in a hooded black cape, though. It was a tall, thin, balding man, whose glimmering eyes were extinguished by the lack of light. He was dressed in a long red jacket, with a bowler hat pulled low over his forehead.

            "Welcome!" he said in a loud, booming voice, that blew away the cobwebs at the top of the tent. "Let the rehearsals begin."

            The ringleader lifted his hat and dived into a bow. The Baudelaires gasped – for underneath his hat was a giant tarantula, heading for the audience!

            The rest of the crowd did not even bat an eyelid, a phrase which here has nothing to do with bats, but means, 'they were not scared as they had seen the same trick a thousand times before'.

            "Don't worry, you'll get used to it," said Isadora reassuringly. "We've seen the same trick a thousand times before."

            "It's to get people into the right mood for the scarier parts," said Quigley.

            A few hours later, after breakfast and rigorous rehearsals, everyone went back, with their animals and props, to their own tents, for a break. Back in the I.D.V. tent, Klaus and Violet pondered about their meeting with the circus ringleader, whilst Sunny played games with the Incredibly Deadly Viper.

            "Do you think that this ringleader can actually keep Olaf out?" asked Violet, thinking about the time when she and her siblings had attended Prufrock Preparatory School, and the Vice Principal Nero had promised to keep Count Olaf out with the advanced computer – but, of course it had failed.

            "We can only hope," answered Klaus mournfully.

            After three more hours of tough rehearsing and delayed schedules – the Incredibly Deadly Viper had shed its skin during the rehearsal, resulting in a big fuss, a ten-minute cleanup, and a very angry snake – it was at last lunchtime. Violet, Klaus and Sunny went up to the food stand without the Quagmires – they had gone off to their tent – and looked at the available selection of food. Today's choice was fruit. Fruit, with, to Sunny's delight, - though it was rather odd – a basket of carrots. Apparently, the workers and performers had to eat the minimum of food, so they didn't chuck it all back out after an energetic performance.

            All of the people around chose their favourite fruit and wandered off with their friends and, if possible, animals. Violet, Klaus and Sunny all chose their fruits, (or in Sunny's case, a vegetable) and walked off, in search of the ringleader.

            "Excuse me," said Violet in her most polite voice, after they had found him. "We were wondering if we could have a word…"

            "Yes?" he said, in a different, more scrawny voice. "What can I do for you?" And outside the tent, where the daylight was shining, there was no mistaking the glimmering, hungry eyes, and scrawny, scratchy voice, of the one and only, Count Olaf.


	6. A dreaded comeuppance

_C h a p t e r_  **Five**

Oh, thank goodness for that! I have had to stop writing because as the smell of petrol filled my nostrils, I realised the bus I was on was burning and I needed to get off quickly. Thankfully, none of the pages are burned, but I think I need some new shoes.

            "Yes, _orphans_?" the ringleader said again, in his scrawny, scratchy voice. "What can I do -" he looked menacingly down at the three children "- for you?"

            Violet was trying to answer, but only managed to give a faint stutter.

            "We-w-we…"

            "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. You _orphans_ need to improve your speech."

            The Baudelaires did not like the way Count Olaf was emphasising the word '_orphans_'; he said it in a devilish, scheming way, and it was not at all pleasant to hear.

            "Pardon me?" said Violet, now full of confidence. "We speak very well, thank you very much."

            "Aaaah, now, see, _that's_ better," the ringleader said in his scrawny drawl of a voice. "Now, what did you want?"

            The siblings wanted many things, such as bringing Count Olaf to justice, a safe place to live, and to solve the web of mystery and woe that surrounded them. Even so they knew it would do no good to confront Olaf about his false identity, as he would only deny it, and they would be getting nowhere. So, they decided to play along with his game – although this time, it was more sinister…

            Klaus sighed. "We were wondering, that if we gave you a description of a certain person, you could keep him away from us?"

            "Keep someone away from _marvellous _people such as yourselves?" the ringleader replied, almost teasingly, in tones of mock splendour. "Why on earth would you want to do that? Who is it?" He suddenly added on the end.

            "Well, his name is Count Olaf," Klaus replied testily. "Ring any bells?"

            The expression on the man's face did not change, but he hesitated slightly before speaking, "no, never heard of the old fellow! What does he look like?"

            But Klaus even felt that there was no need as he gave the ringleader a description. Their lives seemed to already be at their ends…

            "Name!" shrieked Sunny.

            "I _do_ beg your pardon?" the ringleader said in ersatz astonishment.

            Now it was Violet's turn to heave a sigh. "What our sister, Sunny, means," she said through gritted teeth, "is, 'what is your name?'"

            "My name?" said he with a sinister smile, "my name is Marvolo. But, you may call me Uncle Marv, as I _am_ going to be your carer – along with Delphine, of course…"

            "Delphine?" Klaus murmured quietly.

            "Zenk," Violet whispered back.

            Klaus, of course, knew who Delphine Zenk was, but there was something inside the name that was very vague, but familiar…

            He was suddenly jerked out of his trance as fast as he had journeyed into it, by a loud clap behind him.

            "E – Zenkie, my dear, there you are! I was just getting to know these, er, - _fabulous_ – children," shouted Uncle Marv, if I really must call him that, as it pains me to stick with his alias.

            "Ah!" boomed a voice behind the Baudelaires, who turned around to face Aunt Zenk. "Zeze are ze children I brought in ze ozzer day! But – zen again – I do bring in a lot of zeze _rascals_ from day to day, don't I, Marvie?" she said, as though the children weren't there. Then, she seemed to notice them again, as Marvolo had put his arm around her.

            "Oh, go away, kids, and do somesing useful."

            Violet, Klaus and Sunny walked away gratefully, but with a cloud of worry hanging over their heads, which is an expression that really does not involve clouds, but here means 'very worried that Uncle Marv, also known as Count Olaf, will kidnap them, and take them away for their money.'

            "What are we going to do?" Violet asked silently, a while later, back in the I.D.V. tent. "We don't know much about this place to run away, and Olaf would find us anyway."

            "I just hope we'll be able to live through whatever evil scheme he's concocted this time," said Klaus, and all the Baudelaires sighed again. It was bad enough to have Olaf following them around all the time, but the fact that he plotted to steal their fortune every single time, made it worse.


	7. Circus Act Three

A/N: For some strange reason, Quickedit won't work. So if, like in Chapter 3, make any references to things that aren't there, just ignore them, or try to imagine where they would go. It's also why nothing is in italics or bold anymore. PS: if this chapter seems over-descriptive, it's meant to be that way. It's in real-time.

And thank you to Ash-of-Evenstar for telling me that Krakatoa is in Indonesia! (I've never really paid much attention in geography…!)

_C h a p t e r_  **Six**

The lights are dimmed. As sinister music, in a minor key, plays, a hooded figure, cloaked in the shadows, comes out of the beaded curtain. A dozen more of these follow out behind it, forming a semicircle, facing the audience. They seem to chant a baleful poem, – the word 'baleful' here means 'menacing' – in time to the music:

            "We hope you enjoy the show at

            Fun festival today,

            Where all manner of cold, dark creatures

            Come, nestle here, and play.

            First there are the Batting Bats,

            Whose screech will pierce your ears,

            And maybe playing baseball

            Will heighten your worst fears.

            Then there is the Wolf-Man,

            Who detests quiet noises.

            He'll scream at one hundred decibels,

            In one hundred different poises.

            Believe us, there are many more

            Who take pride in seeing your fear.

            But don't scream when they scare you:

            'The world is quiet here.'"

After this poem has finished, the carers of the Batting Bats release their creatures around the tent, to create a distraction, while the howls of the Wailing Wolf-man fill the ears of the audience. The bats clear, amid the shrieks of pain from the audience, to show that the hooded figures have gone, and the Wolf-man, standing in his prime, has replaced them.

Brown and furry, standing on his two hind feet, yet far from cute and cuddly, the Wailing Wolf-man has been silenced by the two people circling the edge of the ring, feeding him scraps of meat. A piece of meat is given to a member of the audience, who holds it, trembling with fear. One of the guardians of the Wolf-man whispers something in the ear of the audience member, as the Wolf-man himself stops in his tracks around the ring, sniffs the air, then scampers menacingly towards the meaty source of the scent. Leaf-like, yet elegantly, the petrified audience member throws the meat into the ring, where the hairy, brown beast catches it mid-fall. As it is chewing, the two strong, burly men who have been circling the ring seize it by a leg and an arm each.

The Wailing Wolf-man wails, bites, and thrashes about, clamping its jaws down on whatever it can, and any discarded limbs are left there, bloody and dripping. As the audience watches this grim spectre, breaths are held and gasps are emitted. Of course, these limbs are prosthetic. The Wailing Wolf-man is trained enough not to kill. But the audience are not aware of these facts. They only are the gazers, watching from behind a large wooden barrier, feeling safe, yet unconfident. Eventually the Wolf-man is dragged offstage, behind the beaded curtain, and the audience breathes a sigh of relief.

As Marvolo the ringleader comes out of the beaded curtain, a shower of applause breaks out, and he, the ringleader, equipped with his long red coat and tall bowler hat, takes a bow. As he does this, he lifts the bowler hat off his head – and scuttling out, is a magnificent tarantula!

Young ladies scream and, standing, pull their skirts up a bit in fear, as if there were a nasty rodent about, while the men just laugh hollowly and comfort them.

"Welcome, welcome!" the ringleader shouts in his booming voice, making the dust rattle. His voice is deep and dark; radiating fear, yet has a joyous quality, with a slice of laughter. "We hope you have enjoyed the first act of the Abnormal Animals show." he fixes his gaze onto the spider; it stops, and a shimmering blue neon light glows around it. Rising up a few feet into the air, it hovers there for a few seconds, before flying back towards the ringleader, whilst completing a full twist, a double back flip and somersault, all before landing right into his open mouth! Marvolo closes his mouth, shuts his eyes, as though bracing himself, then swallows the spider whole! There is a moment of tense suspense as the audience gasps, screams, and retches. Marv the ringleader stands up straight, and the audience all start to laugh as the spider is seen, as a small lump, crawling down his trouser leg, then out through the bottom, near his shoe! The audience claps, and the ringleader himself chuckles menacingly as he scoops the spider up in his hat, and replaces it on his head. "Here at the Fun Festival: Abnormal Animals Show, we like to scare our audiences witless. But what's the good in scaring people without having a laugh, eh? We have reached 'j' so far in our Abnormal Animal Alphabet, so, to start act two off with some humour, give it up for the Jiving Jaguar!"

There is another quick burst of applause, and a disco ball is lowered from the tight rope by the tight rope walkers, just as a jaguar, standing on its two hind feet, wearing an afro wig, seventies shirt and trousers, and five-and-a-half inch platform shoes, appears from behind the beaded curtain. A disco beat starts to play, emanating from somewhere within the ring, and the jaguar starts to dance. Wild dancing, fast dancing, dances that haven't been seen yet. The disco music comes to a sudden halt, and so does the Jiving Jaguar. He pauses, confused, until a slow waltz comes on. Off come the disco clothes and wig, and to everybody's surprise, there is a proper tuxedo underneath! The audience laughs, then applauds. As the jaguar has no one to waltz with, it mimes dancing with thin air! Suddenly, a resounding bang, like a gunshot, shakes the tent more than the ringleader's voice. The calm music stops, and the jaguar scampers off in fear, as smoke unfurls from beyond the beaded curtain. Everybody gasps.

"Fire!" shout some people, but it is not a fire. Numerous are looking for the source of the sound, cautiously looking for any trace of a gun. A rustle is heard in the shadows, but nobody knows what it is. BOOM! Another bang echoes throughout the air. This time, it is heard from the back, behind a group of girls, who scream, jump up, and turn around in fear. But there is nothing behind them. Instantly, as they turn, a rope, with a strange grey creature clinging onto it, swings into the centre of the circus ring. As it swings, it emits more gunshot-like bangs, and a man in the front row cries out, as something cold, red, and sticky lands on his head. With a Tarzan-like cry, the crackling figure swings and lands in the centre of the ring. It is small, greyish-brown, and furry: a koala. Many girls squeal and gush in delight, as they have never seen a koala before. Not everybody believes that this tiny, harmless creature created all this chaos. But the audience members watch intently as the top of the koala's head starts to funnel out, turning into a conical shape. Slowly at first, then quicker, until at last, KA-BANG! A sea of red - apparently lava - flows sickeningly out of the koala's head, and a stream of smoke unfurls out afterwards. A person, obviously the koalas' carer, comes on stage, holding a baby koala. The girl is wearing a grey lead vest, to protect herself from the sticky red lava, of which the vest is already covered, from a fresh blow.

"These," she explains, in a distant, echoing voice, "are the Krakatoa Koalas, so called, because of their ability to act like the volcano-" she stops, as a fresh 'BANG' erupts again, and a new wave of lava covers the now grey, crusty ash on the girl's lead vest, "- Mount Krakatoa. This volcano, in Indonesia, produces the same slow-flowing, sticky lava. These creatures are really 'freaks of nature'."

The koalas' carer puts down the baby koala she is holding, and goes behind the curtain for a few seconds. She returns with a table, on it, a few lemons, a bowl, a roll of tissues, a sieve, and a bottle of the lava.

"The lava of the Krakatoa Koala is highly useful," she continues. "You may find, that if you run the lava through a sieve –" she picks one up "-that you will get carbonated - a word which here means 'fizzy' - water." She demonstrates this, and as she does so, a large amount of clean, clear, bubbling water splashes into the bowl beneath. "Pure as filtered water, cleaner than bottled water. This can be drunk as sparkling water alone, or as lemonade, if you squeeze some lemon into it. Voila!" she proclaims, as she pours some ready-squeezed lemon juice into the bowl. "You can find many different flavours, served as refreshments," she concludes, "during the interval."

She takes a bow, and scurries off the stage with her props, and the koalas following close behind. The audience applauds, and murmurs of approval are heard, scattered; yet there is the odd mutter of "absolute codswallop," here and there.

Out comes the ringleader, clapping his hands as he walks. "As this is quite a short show, we shall conclude with our final act, the Passionate Piranhas!" The audience applauds once again, as a giant fish tank, covered with a cloth, is wheeled out from behind the beaded curtain, and Marvolo goes back behind the curtain. The person pushing it cannot be seen, however; she is very young: at least three years old. She steps out from behind the fish tank, and addresses the audience. Many spectators go 'awww', as she steps out from behind the tank. The miniscule - a word which here means 'tiny'- girl speaks to the audience with a sweet, high-pitched voice, yet her words have the drone of those that have been memorised and repeated over again.

"You may know that piranhas have the potential of being the deadliest fish in the world; of course, after the shark."

There is a murmur of agreement from the audience as this fact is spoken. She continues,

"Well, meet the Passionate Piranhas: small, sharp-toothed fish -" she uncovers the fish tank, to show a swarm of piranhas, crowded around a piece of meat in the centre, "- that wouldn't hurt a fly." As she finishes her sentence, the fish all swim away from the meat, leaving it there, suspended, colouring the water a deep, blood red. Mutters flutter through the benches, and the audience seems to increase its interest in these angelic fish.

"Could a person from the audience kindly participate in a demonstration?" the little three-year-old girl asks in her sweet voice.

Nearly all hands in the audience go up, charmed by the adorable tiny toddler. Finally, a person, a tall man, in a black suit, a bowler hat, with a nasty cough, and by the name of Mr. Poe, is chosen. He strolls down the stairs, accompanied by one of the circus guards, coughing at irregular intervals. Mr. Poe, the Baudelaires' financial advisor, finally arrives in the centre of the ring, and the audience wait with anticipation, what will happen next. The girl holds up one of the piranhas from the tank, almost fully climbing into it, and the audience fears for her safety. She holds it up to Mr. Poe, who is told to extend a finger to the fish, as you would do to a dog, like a sort of recognition process. The piranha, which amazingly is not squirming out of water, moves closer to Mr. Poe's finger cautiously, then bites it, like Sunny would, to a friend. The banker smiles, then pulls his finger away, and makes his way back to his seat, amid the applause of the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen, kids and workers, thank you for watching, performing, and participating in tonight's Abnormal Animals act three!" Uncle Marv has come out of his little space at the back of the tent, to much applause, and wraps up the show. "It certainly has been a pleasure to present these – ah – animals to you, and we sincerely hope you have enjoyed the show. Once again, thank - "

But he is interrupted halfway through his speech as someone in the back row of the audience stands up – a worker -, and behind his round glasses, his eyes are wide with fear, and he shouts with a rough and low voice. He sounds very scared.

"A snake! Look out! The Incredibly Deadly Viper has escaped!"

At the mention of the words 'Incredibly', 'Deadly', and 'Viper', the audience too, jumps up in fear. To add to the picture, a small child, dressed in white, with a red ribbon in her hair, is crawling up to the snake, not deterred – a word which here means 'put off' – by all the commotion around her.

Little Sunny Baudelaire stops by the snake, staring at it with wide eyes. She pokes it once, as though testing how hard it is. Infuriated, the snake rears up and bears its fangs at Sunny. The tiny infant opens her mouth wide in shock, as the snake pounces on her and coils itself menacingly around Sunny's fragile body. Another person stands up in the audience: a tall girl, also with a ribbon in her hair, and as soon as the Incredibly Deadly Viper starts to wrap itself around the youngest Baudelaire child, she shouts:

"Good heavens! Whatever shall we do? The Viper will kill her for sure!"

At this, the people gasp in fright once again. Nobody moves, for fear of scaring the long, dark snake into biting the child. Everybody holds their breath as the sewer-pipe snake hangs poised over Sunny, ready to strike – but too late – the Viper dives, and bites the thrashing Sunny on the chin. Several faint, Violet gasps, and Klaus' screams grow rougher and lower, as he supposedly gets more apprehensive, a word which here means 'scared'.

But even as the spectators stare at the now motionless Sunny Baudelaire, the infant stirs before their eyes. Sitting up in one swift movement, she bites the snake on the nose; it recoils, allowing her to stand up properly and shout, "boo!"

As the entire audience breathes a sigh of relief, the two elder Baudelaires, Violet and Klaus, climb down the stairs to their sister. Once they have reached her, and the applause dies down, Klaus comforts the audience with the fact of the Incredibly Deadly Viper's name being a misnomer,

"Which means," Klaus continues, "a wrong name."

"It was chosen by a very famous herpetologist," explains Violet, "the late Dr. Montgomery Montgomery. In fact, it's so harmless, even our baby sister can play with it!"

"Snake!" cries Sunny, and everybody laughs. And to the audience's amazement, Sunny says, "thanks for watching!"

The lights are brightened. Everybody stands up and stretches, even though it was a short show. They all leave, and within ten minutes, the tent is empty.


	8. What's he up to?

A/N: Well, seeing as Quickedit isn't working for my MSWORD files, I'll just have to convert them all into HTML files. There we go, problem solved! :-)

_C h a p t e r _ **Seven**

"Well, Baudeliars, what can I say?" commented Marvolo the Ringleader, half an hour later, in his tent, when the coast was clear. "Your performance – abysmal. I expect a better display next time, or, as I have threatened oh, so many times," he roared, spraying saliva on the three orphans, "the biting brat gets it! Do I make myself clear?"

            "What was wrong with our act?" inquired Violet. I felt it had the most impact on people than the rest."

            Uncle Marv sneered, and mocked Violet. "'_It had the most _impact _on people_.' Hmph! How much more stupid could you get? Here, at the Fun Festival, _I_ am in charge. And that means, that what _I_ say, goes. And _I_ don't care about _impact_; _I_ care about _content_. It's what makes a show work. Are you even listening to me?" he finished, the familiar menacing gleam fresh in his eyes.

            Violet and Klaus nodded, butt Sunny, sitting down by everyone's feet, thought it would be a good time to get her own back on Uncle Marv.

            "I!" she shrieked, loud enough for everyone to hear. This time, she probably meant something along the lines of, "there's no 'I' in 'Count Olaf', or in 'Uncle Marvolo', either."

            Sunny's older siblings looked down at her, unable to suppress a grin, but Count Olaf himself was taking a deep breath, in preparation to shout his head off again. Just in time, however, Mr. Poe entered the tent.

            "Ah! Baudelaires! I thought I might find you here. I wanted to congratulate you on such an excellent first performance."

            "Why, thank you, Mr. Poe," Klaus said with a slight grin. "At least someone appreciates our effort."

            "What do you mean?" asked Mr. Poe.

            Violet sighed. "Mr. Poe, we need to talk to you. Outside…" she motioned to the tent's flap.

            "Very well, but make it quick. I'm due back at Mulctuary Money Management in an hour, and the next train is due in –" he checked his watch, and gasped, "five minutes! I must hurry." After a brief fit of coughing from Mr. Poe, Violet asked Uncle Marv if they could walk with Mr. Poe for a quick chat.

            "Well, actually," said Marv with a malicious grin, "I was out to do some circus business, anyway. You see, we are running out of equipment for the shows, and I need to go into town to get some more. I hope you wouldn't mind if I joined you? There _is_ only one train running from here to the town of Tedia –" he looked at Mr. Poe, "isn't there?"

            "Well, yes, in that case," said Mr. Poe. "I really don't see why not. You seem to be concerned with the safety of these children, and it would be a great opportunity for me to learn about the circus."

            They all set out for the train station, the Baudelaires hanging their heads in defeat. They had wanted to try to tell Mr. Poe about Uncle Marv's real identity, but obviously they had failed.

            "Besides," Violet whispered into Klaus' ear, for fear of being overheard by the two adults, "telling Mr. Poe wouldn't have made such a difference. He always believes that Count Olaf is who he says he is."

            "That's right," Klaus whispered back. "He usually only finds out at the last minute, and then Count Olaf escapes."

            "Why are you three children so quiet?" Mr. Poe asked. "Surely you can't be miserable here? It's the circus! Oh, no, wait, don't tell me: Count Olaf is here and he is going to throw up some dastardly plan to steal your money again, right?"

            "Actually -" Violet started, but a menacing look from Marv made her change her mind. "No, we haven't seen him at all. I think we're pretty safe."

            "Well," said Mr. Poe, "it's good to know that Marvolo over here – if I can call you that, of course?"

            Marv nodded. "Please, call me Marv."

            "That Marv over here has excelled in the task of keeping Count Olaf away. I think you may stay here longer then any other residence you have resided at."

            The Baudelaires all looked at him solemnly, but said nothing.

            "'Resided'," coughed Mr. Poe, "means 'lived'."

            "We _know_ what it means, Mr. Poe," said Klaus with a sigh.

            A short while later, they arrived at the station. The Baudelaires were amazed to see a railway station out in the middle of nowhere, but to Mr. Poe and Uncle Marv, it was as normal as finding a bath in a bathroom.

            "Well, here's the train," Mr. Poe said, and waved goodbye. "Aren't you coming, Marv?"

            "Actually, it's not that important. I can wait until next week."

            "OK, then, Baudelaires, see you later!" Mr. Poe shouted over the hiss of the already moving steam engine, and hopped onto the train. In a few seconds, and a puff of smoke, he was gone.

            Marvolo smirked, and turned to face the Baudelaires. "Well, Baudeliars," he said again. "You thought you were going to rat me out to your fellow Mr. Poe. Well, it hasn't worked this time. So -"

            Marvolo paused as his walkie-talkie rang, similar to the one Count Olaf carried in Al Funcoot's play of The Marvellous Marriage. He picked it up. The voice on the other end sounded deep and grunt-like, and would most probably be one of Count Olaf's comrades: the person that looked like neither a man nor a woman. The Baudelaires once again strained their ears to pick up every word that was being said.

            "Olaf, Boss?" Grunty said.

            "Yes? Make it quick. What is it?" Marv snapped.

            "The papers are here. All they need is your signature for confirmation."

            "Sshh! Not much now. The brats are with me."

            "Yes, Boss."

            "And one last thing…"

            "Yes, Boss?"

            "Check the box marked 'withdraw all'. I want the thing drained, you hear me?"

            "The -"

            Unfortunately, the Baudelaires did not hear which word came next, as Uncle Marv had chosen the right moment to cough.

            "Alright, all done, Boss."

            "I will arrive in a few minutes."

            "Yes, Boss. Over and out."

            Uncle Marv turned to face the Baudelaires, who were huddled in a group, to make it look as though they had been talking amongst themselves, and not listening in on a top-secret phone-call.

            "Well, brats, we haven't been listening in on old Uncle Marv's walkie-talkie conversation with the clowns, were you?"

            Violet, Klaus and Sunny put on their most innocent faces.

            "Oh, no, sir, of course not," said Violet.

            "Wouldn't dream of it," said Klaus.

            "Innoc," said Sunny, which probably meant, "innocence is a virtue."

            Uncle Marv looked at the children with his narrow-eyed suspicious look that the Baudelaires knew only too well from their times with Count Olaf. Then he shrugged, and said,

            "Well, I'll take your word for it. As long as you haven't been scheming against me in that huddled group of yours," he said.

            The three Baudelaires shook their heads, but Uncle Marv took it the wrong way.

            "'Scheming'," said Uncle Marv, with the air of talking to a particularly dumb person, "means 'plotting'."

            "We _know_ what 'scheming' means," said Violet with a sigh. "We shook our heads to say that we haven't been scheming against you."

            "Oh, I see now," said Uncle Marv with a huge fake grin. "OK. Let's all go back to the Fun Festival. We need to do some more rehearsing on your pathetic act."

            The Baudelaires sighed again as they walked back to the circus; but they thought not to pursue the matter, a phrase which here means 'argue with Count Olaf, who is calling himself Uncle Marv, any longer.'

            As soon as they were out of Uncle Marv's sight, the Baudelaire orphans rushed into the I.D.V. tent, where they planned to mull over the new information they had picked up.

            "I wonder what Olaf is up to this time?" asked Violet. "We now know that it has something to do with papers."

            "And withdrawal," said Klaus. "That means taking out something. But what could it be?"

            "Word?" shrieked Sunny, which probably meant something along the lines of, "what was the word that Count Olaf coughed over so he wouldn't let us hear it?"

            "I don't know, Sunny," said Violet sadly. "Maybe if we did know, it would make figuring out Olaf's plan a bit easier."

            "Well," figured Klaus, "we can use what we've got to help us. I think that the most important clue is that he's after our money."

            "Bank?" asked Sunny hopefully.

            "I don't think so, Sunny," said Klaus. "We know Olaf is greedy, but he wouldn't try to rob a bank. He would try to got the money legally, so he can keep it without being framed."

            "'_I want the thing drained_," repeated Violet. "What was that supposed to mean?"

            "Firstly, let's think about the money itself," said Klaus. "If you keep the money in your bank, you would have an account, right?"

            "That's true," said Violet. "'Drain an account'. It makes sense!"

            "Papers!" shrieked Sunny, which obviously meant, "then what are the papers for?"

            "Hmmm…" hummed Violet. "Good question. Maybe they're to prove something?"

            "But what would there be to prove?" asked Klaus in wonder.

            "Well, Klaus," Violet said thoughtfully. "Think about it logically. It's our money, so the only things he would have to prove is that he is our guardian, and that we are of age. That's where the papers come in, most probably."

            "But how will that fool Mr. Poe? He's just been to visit us today. We can't grow up a few years in a matter of hours!" cried Klaus. "Alas, if only we had a book on money to help us…"

A/N: dun-dun-duuun… what happens now?

Tee, he, he… Please R&R!


	9. Aha!

A/N: wow, this is getting along great. I've already thought of everything that's gonna happen, and I'm even sad about it. Just one question. Am I the only person that actually writes their story down on paper before typing it up?

_C h a p t e r_  **Eight**

Ah, sorry, but as I write, and the time whizzes past, I realised I am depriving myself of food, and I had to excuse myself for a quick tea break.

            But at the mention of this, Sunny stood up and took a few wobbly steps up to Klaus' suitcase.

            "Poe, book!" she shrieked, pointing to the suitcase.

            "That's right, Sunny!" exclaimed Violet. "Mr. Poe gave you those books, to read on the way here! Maybe they could be of some use?"

            "Of course!" Klaus jumped up and ran over to his suitcase right away. Opening it, he took out the four books Mr. Poe had lent him: '_The Financial History of Mulctuary Money Management_', '_How Banks Work_', '_Money – How to Keep Track of Yours_', and '_A Cent Can Grow Into a Dollar_'.

"And they're all about finance!" Klaus said. "At last, Mr. Poe has been of some help!" he smiled, and selected two books from the pile. Walking over to Violet, who now had Sunny on her lap, he gave them the book entitled '_Money – How to Keep Track of Yours_', and said, "Here, you read this with Sunny. Anything at all which you think is relevant, just shout it out. I'll be reading '_How Banks Work_', and I'll let you know when I find something."

"OK," the two girls said together, and they all got down to reading their books.

There was silence for a few minutes, only broken by the occasional flicking of pages.

And the next few minutes…

The next half hour…

Then the next hour…

Until…

"Klaus, I think I've found something," said Violet after an age. "Listen to this…"

"'A parent, or a guardian acting in loco parentis, is liable to withdraw money from their child's account at will, as long as they have the sufficient documentation to prove certain information about their child.'"

"That proves your theory about the papers!" said Klaus excitedly. "But, still, I think there's no way he can get past Mr. Poe."

"Do you have anything yet, Klaus?" asked Violet.

"Well, everything in this book hasn't really been of much help. There is this one thing about being able to change your financial advisor. We could switch, but then there's a greater chance of Olaf getting our money. And I really don't see why we should change. I think that the papers and withdrawal of account money are the strongest clues we have," said Klaus mournfully. "But I've also managed to think of one thing, even though it would be quite evident by now…"

"Yes, go on," Violet said.

"You know the poem that we heard during the performance?"

"The one with the hooded figures?"

"Yes, that one."

"What about it?"

"I've been thinking about the last stanza, or verse, and the first two lines are: '_believe us, there are many more, who take pride in seeing your fear._' I'm starting to think that Uncle Marv is the person being described. He takes pride in seeing our fear."

"And our money," agreed Violet.

"Also, there's a possibility that the hooded figures may be Count Olaf's comrades, as well."

"Size!" shrieked Sunny.

"True again, Sunny," said Klaus. "They were all different sizes, and by the way the audience clapped after they heard the poem, they obviously hadn't heard it before."

They were interrupted suddenly, as someone wiggled the tent flap, the equivalent of knocking on a door.

"Whoozit?" shrieked Sunny, which meant something like, "who is it?"

"Quagmires," came the reply. "May we come in?"

"Yes, you may," said Violet.

"Hello," they all said once they had entered the tent, and the Baudelaires also greeted them.

"Well, we came to ask you if anything was wrong," said Isadora. "You've seemed rather secluded lately…"

The Baudelaires seemed rather taken aback, they had not noticed how quiet and thoughtful they had been over the past few days, when they had found out about Marv's real identity.

Violet chose the right time to crack a sarcastic joke. "Oh, it's nothing big," she said, "only that all of our lives are in danger, due to the reappearance of an arch enemy, that's all."

Sunny looked over at Violet with a grin, and then shrieked, "Olaf!"

"What Sunny means," translated Klaus, "is that Violet means that Count Olaf is here, disguised as Marvolo, the ringleader."

"I thought there was something funny about that new ringleader," said Quigley.

"Yeah, he introduced that 'one-fruit-a-day-and-nothing-else-or-you'll-chuck-it-back-out' system," said Duncan. "But now I realise he's been trying to starve us."

"There's something else we need to tell you," said Violet. "You'd better take a seat…"

The Quagmires sat down on the grassy ground, as each of the three Baudelaires told them what Olaf and his theatre troupe planned to do. There was a deathly silence in the tent, the few moments after they had finished. Apparently, the situation was made worse by the fact that all of the residents of the Fun Festival were, in fact, orphans.

"Are you sure that's what he plans to do?" asked Quigley. "How can you be certain?"

"We're not entirely certain," said Klaus.

"Guess!" shouted Sunny, which probably meant something like, "it was a good guess."

"It's the best we've got," said Violet miserably. "We're going to try and confront him tomorrow."

"Then you're going to need a lot of sleep. It takes a lot of guts to stand up to Olaf," said Duncan.

"Don't we know _that_ well," muttered Klaus in a low voice, and everybody murmured in agreement.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Please R&R! Many of the people who review are only reading the first chapter! (Sobs) It's not fair! I put a lot of effort into my writing! (Sighs)

Sorry I haven't updated in a long time, but it's because a fic I've read has really put me off my writing. It sort of contradicts everything I write. It's so sad. Klaus Baudelaire, how could you? The story is called 'everyone deserves a second chance', or something like that.

Oh, yeah! And thank you again to Ash-of-Evenstar, for actually reading up to chapter eight. Duncan couldn't help Violet because I feel like being really mean, and you'll see how in this chapter. (Sighs again) No, Duncan's not already going out with someone else. So you can rule out that possibility.

And another thing: (Quite persistent, aren't I?) Since this story is before book 10, Sunny still hasn't spoken her first sentence. The sentence in Ch6 was memorised, as with all things.

_C h a p t e r _**Nine**

The next morning, Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire woke up early: they were too nervous about their meeting with Count Olaf to sleep any more.

"Violet?" called Klaus in a loud whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, I am," she whispered back. "I'm too nervous to sleep."

"What about you, Sunny?"

"Awake!" she whispered.

They all nervously clambered out of their beds, too scared to say a word to each other. Quietly, they got ready, then met together in the centre of the I.D.V. tent.

"Ok," said Violet in businesslike tones. "We have to be strong. We can't let him intimidate us."

The two others nodded, looking more confident than they felt. Exiting the tent, they walked the length of the circus plot until they found the ringleader's tent.

"Well, this is it," said Violet apprehensively. "As our mother used to say, 'brace yourselves'."

The Baudelaires braced themselves, a phrase which, as I'm sure you'll know, has nothing to do with braces, but means, 'got ready for a terrible challenge'. Waggling the tent flap, they looked at one another nervously. How would Uncle Marv react? The tent flap opened slightly, revealing an eye; an eye similar to the eye already printed on the front of the tent. It looked up and down like an x-ray scanner, observing the children thoroughly. It looked skyward for a moment; a sigh was heard, then the flap opened. Standing there was Uncle Marv, already dressed, up and awake.

"Yes, Baudebrats," breathed Uncle Marv. "What useless thing do you want to ask about now?"

"Actually, Marvolo," said Klaus, "or should we say, Count Olaf, we have come to stop you in your tracks."

"You want to stop the circus?" said Marvolo incredulously. "Why would you want to do that? Kids love the circus!"

"Not a word, Olaf," said Violet. "We know about your plans to get our money."

"Money?" Marvolo asked in fake wonder. "What money? I'm practically swimming in funds from the circus. I don't need your dosh!"

"Yet you still want to get it," said Violet testily.

"Now, now, children," said Marv in a would-be kind voice, "I really don't know what on earth you are talking about. It would do everyone a lot of good if you just went and got ready for the rehearsals."

"Pretending!" shouted Sunny, which probably meant, "stop pretending. We know who you are, Olaf."

Uncle Marv snorted. "You and your annoying baby talk. I can never understand what you're saying. Besides. Even if I did want your -" his eyes sparkled menacingly "- big fortune, I wouldn't be able to prove that you are of age, because you're not."

"Papers!" shrieked Sunny again.

"Aargh!" roared Marv in frustration. "Enough baby talk, or I will have you fired! You hear me?"

Sunny looked at the ground, tears of fear in her eyes. Looking up again, she said, "it's not baby talk."

Gaping, Violet and Klaus tried to conceal their amazement at Sunny's first intelligible – a word which here means 'understandable' – sentence.

"There. You see?" Marvolo had his usual menacing grin pasted on his face. "Speaking in full sentences really does help! You should try that more often."

"An-y-way," said Violet slowly, through gritted teeth, "what Sunny meant was, "you have those papers to prove our age."

"Well, even if I did have these so-called papers, I wouldn't be able to get past that obnoxious banker of yours."

"Mr. Poe is not obnoxious!" Klaus cried. "In fact, I think you're the one who's obnoxious!"

"What a rude little boy!" Marv exclaimed with wide eyes. "Now tune your pint-sized brains to the fact that I will not do anything of the sort, and go and do something useful!"

The words that Uncle Marv had spoken a few seconds before did have some truth, at least. There was no way that Count Olaf could get past Mr. Poe. Unless he killed him… the prospect was unimaginable. But it was not impossible; Count Olaf had killed on several occasions before.

Turning their backs on Marvolo, the Baudelaires walked towards the tent flap in defeat, only to be called back by him one last time.

"Oh, and by the way, orphans," Marv said nastily, "I won't be in very much today. I have to do the circus business I was on about the other day. Now, because I am absolutely desperate, and extremely kind-hearted, I am going to ask you three to be in charge, until I come back. If I am not back for tonight's performance, you, you little bookworm, will take my position."

The Baudelaires turned around.

"But I'm not telekinetic," said Klaus. "How will I do your first performance?"

"Think, cleverclogs. Use your common sense. Not that you would have any…"

"Well, it's not like you do, Olaf," said Violet, and with that, the Baudelaires marched out of the tent.

"Who could be gone for a whole day, just on circus business?" Klaus wondered. "It's five-thirty now, so he'll get to Tedia by six-thirty. Rehearsals start at eight O' clock, so he'll have been gone for two-and-a-half hours. I'd say the most anyone needs on 'circus business' is three hours, minus the train journeys, so he should be back by around ten-thirty."

"Seven!" shrieked Sunny, which appeared to mean, "the performance starts at seven O' clock. Where will Olaf be for the next eight-and-a-half hours?"

"I wish I knew," said Violet forlornly. "It might make our lives easier…"

"We could ask Mr. Poe," Klaus said hopefully, but his balloon of anticipation was burst, suddenly. "But we have no telephone…"

"Follow!" shrieked Sunny, which meant something like, "we could follow him," but her balloon of anticipation was burst, suddenly; she said, "but we have to take care of the rehearsals…"

The three Baudelaires all sighed for the final time in this episode of unfortunate events, for, from this chapter onwards; the Baudelaires will be so confused that there will be no time for sighing.

"Well," said Violet, after an age of staring miserably at the ground, "I guess we have to get back to our tent now." So silently and sullenly, the Baudelaires turned their backs on the rest of the circus plot, and made their way back to the I.D.V. tent.

The rest of this chapter will be very irksome, because as much as we want to know what the Baudelaires get up to in this chapter, which isn't really anything much, my research team and I have found some information on what Count Olaf was also doing at the time. So for the remainder of this chapter, I shall be skipping between describing the Baudelaires' day, and what nasty scheme Count Olaf is executing.

Carniville

The Baudelaires walked back to their tent. Entering it, the tenacious – a word which here means 'determined' - trio did not go back to sleep for the extra two-and-a-half hours, as most would do, but sat in the centre of the grassy floor of their tent, talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers. When eight O' clock came, they would be left with a huge responsibility… running a circus!

Tedia

Meanwhile, Count Olaf was sitting in a steam engine, with his bowler hat pulled low over his one eyebrow, reading a broadsheet edition of The Daily Punctilio, to conceal his identity. Even though there was really no need – news of Olaf had not passed the city since the last year, and the residents moved along fast in terms of gossip.

But one story that had really stuck in the town of Tedia was the so-called murder of Count Omar by the three orphans, Veronica, Klyde, and Susie Baudelaire. The story was extremely popular, and newspaper articles were still being printed about supposed sightings of the siblings, none of which were ever real. So it was really no surprise that Count Olaf was reading an article named, 'They came into my house and stayed in our garden!'

Snorting, Olaf flipped the page. He was sick of reading about the numerous times that people claimed to have seen them, just for a bit of money.

Carniville

It was at last eight O'clock, and, after a good hard talk about what to do for the rehearsals, the Baudelaires rose and exited the tent. Looking around, they saw that the Quagmires weren't waiting outside their tent, as they usually did.

"Maybe they're already at the tent…?" Violet suggested.

"Maybe…" Klaus said. "But they would tell us, wouldn't they?"

"Rush!" shrieked Sunny thoughtfully, which probably meant something like, "maybe they had to rush there, to do something urgent."

"Maybe…" said Klaus, "but 'maybes' won't get us anywhere."

"You're right," said Violet. "We'd better go… by the way, Klaus, have you figured out a way to do the telekinesis that Marvolo does?"

"No," admitted Klaus. "But I'm sure it's not real. There has to be something he uses. Did you see anything odd when the spider floats up? A magnetic strip; a string; anything?"

"Well…" Violet considered for a moment. "No, nothing that I can remember. But I'm sure that I can try and whisk something up."

Worried about the Quagmires' whereabouts, the Baudelaires rushed off at top speeds, Violet carrying Sunny, to the main circus tent.

Tedia

Marvolo the ringleader ruffled then closed his newspaper, as the steam engine came to a halt. Tucking the broadsheet under his arm, the doors opened, and out he stepped into the large, and rather dull, town of Tedia.

Olaf had slept late the previous night; too busy planning his evil scheme to get much sleep, so he really couldn't be bothered to walk very much. Dirty as Olaf was, he was also very lazy. He called a taxi, and climbed into it.

"Banking district," he snarled to the driver, who looked at Olaf with wide eyes. "And step on it, I'm in a hurry." Count Olaf opened his newspaper again and started to read.

The driver nodded, but was too taken with this absurdly dressed customer to obey. You really didn't get many people in Tedia dressed like people from the circus.

"Did you hear me?" Olaf half-roared. "I said, step on it!"

"Y-y-yes, s-sir," the driver stammered. Slowly and cautiously, he put the car in gear, and started off at a snail's pace.

Olaf rolled his eyes, and snapped, "do you have a problem with me? You won't like it if you have a problem with me."

The driver shook his head.

"Well, too bad, because I have a problem with YOU!" In a swift move, Olaf opened the driver's door, and pushed him right out!

"That should teach you to obey ringleaders!" Olaf shouted amid the crowds of people now gathering to watch. "What?" Olaf growled. "What are you looking at? Mind your own beeswax!" With that, he moved into the driver's seat, closed the door, and took over the wheel.

Carniville

Back at the Fun Festival, it was chaos. Everybody was unsure of what to do, and there was screaming, yelling, running around, and most of all, angry animals.

"Calm down!" shouted Violet tentatively, a word which here means 'uncertainly', whilst looking for the Quagmires in all the commotion.

"Stop!" shouted Klaus, who was about to be trampled over by a horde of mongooses.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhh!" Sunny screamed, as she was knocked off her feet by a unicorn, only to be caught by one of the trapeze artists, swinging on a trapeze.

Klaus somehow managed to dodge the approaching pack of mongooses, and rushed into the square opening at the back of the tent. Grabbing a whistle, he ran out again into the main ring, and blew it as hard as he could. The effects were immediate: everyone stopped running, the noise ceased, and Sunny was laid down harmlessly on the ground by the trapeze artist.

"Everybody listen!" Klaus shouted, glad that he hadn't shouted more and gotten a sore throat. Once he was sure everyone was listening, he continued, "Marvolo is not here at the moment, but will be back soon. Is everyone present?"

The workers looked around, the heads of each department counting their numbers. Then the head of the animal department spoke up,

"We've got three absent, Klaus."

"Do you know who they are?" asked Klaus.

She nodded her head. "Yes, Klaus. The Quagmires."

Tedia

"Mwahaha!" sneered Olaf as he steered the car recklessly – a word which here means 'wildly' – through the streets of Tedia, dodging whatever he could yet not really caring if he hit something. He was looking for some people - three people, i should say - and of course, they were very important to the plan.

Ignoring a 'no entry' sign on a road, Olaf veered sharply to the left, and nearly hit an elderly woman crossing the road! She screamed and managed to avoid the oncoming car, while Olaf stuck his head out the window and yelled, "watch where you're going, punk!", then carried on down the road. He looked briefly at each building on either side as they flashed by momentarily: large streaks of boring-looking red and grey buildings. Finally he saw the place he was looking for, and braking severely, he stepped outside. As promised, the Quagmires were there, waiting for him.

Carniville

"They told me that Quigley was ill," she said, "and said they would be missing today's performance. They told me this morning in a note." she handed over a small piece of paper with the same short message on it.

Violet came over, peering at the note. "They looked pretty much alive and well yesterday," she said. "It seems odd that they would take off like this without much explanation, and so suddenly."

"Poison!" shrieked Sunny, obviously still thrilled by her flight around the ring.

"There's an idea," Klaus murmured to Violet. "Maybe he's poisoned their food or something, to get them away from helping us."

"But then why -" Violet started, but the stare of the crowd on them cut her short. Turning to face the crowd, she said, "sorry for all the fuss. We must get on with the rehearsals and performance without them, or Marvolo will be angry. Let's begin..."

I need not describe how the rehearsals went, for they have most probably been revealed to you elsewhere in this story. The start of show, however, is the time that i will be referring back to Carniville, as this is where some of the most interesting events of the chapter take place. But the cleverest part of Olaf's plan, is carried out in Tedia.

Tedia

Olaf stepped out of the car, with his usual menacing grin and shiny, shiny eyes, and surveyed the sight before him: Delphine Zenk, standing and talking to the Quagmires quietly, as you would to a young child, to comfort them. Duncan was holding a rolled up wad of papers, tied up with an elastic band; obviously the 'papers' that the Baudelaires had heard about in the walkie-talkie conversation.

"Well done, Zenkie," said Olaf heartily as he climbed out. "I see you did manage to get them."

"Well, it was no trouble," said Aunt Zenk smugly. "They came along like little sheep."

"Here are the papers you wanted, Sir," said Duncan in his normal tones; yet his eyes were wide with fear.

"You can keep those for a while, like a good boy," Olaf said teasingly, but Duncan made no remark. "There's been a change of plan. We don't need to walk to the bank: out of the kindness of my heart, I've hired a car! Get in!"

Like silent robots, the Quagmires clambered into the stolen taxi, with Zenk following behind. Olaf sat down in his seat again, closed the door and slammed his foot down on the pedal. The car didn't budge.

"Argh, what the hell is wrong with this car?" Count Olaf roared.

"Umm..." Zenk started, "Olaf, dear, maybe -"

"Not now, Esmé!" Olaf snapped, still pressing the pedal down to the floor, trying to get the car to start.

With a sigh, Esmé - and what a delight it is for me to finally stop using that ridiculous alias - reached over, and released the handbrake. The car shot forwards.

"Zenkie," Olaf roared, supposedly sweetly, against the tooth-bearing speed of the car. "Why didn't you tell me I forgot to release the brake?"

Esmé just rolled her eyes.

After around ten minutes of dangerous driving, the stolen taxi finally screeched to a halt. Looking out of the window, the Quagmires saw the large, and boring, banking district. They all once more got out of the car. "Hand over the papers, brat," Olaf snapped to Duncan. He held them out to the Count, who snatched them away forcefully.

"Right," said Count Olaf. "Your job is done. You may go back to Carniville and rehearse now."

And with that, the Quagmires sighed, turned their backs on Olaf, and Esmé, and wearily walked back the other way, to the Tedia Central Train Station.

Alas, I do not have any information about the Quagmires' train journey back to Carniville. But as far as my sources go, I have reliable evidence of a tragic train crash, in which three people died. After the search, forensic experts did manage to find an elastic band, which is most probably the one which was used to tie up the papers.

"Well, that's those orphans out of the way," Esmé said with relish.

"Now we can execute the clever part of the plan," Olaf said menacingly. "Off to the bank!"

And so Count Olaf and Esmé Squalor set off on their perilous - yet rather boring - journey through the banking district, in search of Mulctuary Money Management.

"You do know what the place is called, don't you?" asked Olaf anxiously.

"Of course," she said. "Mulctuary Money Management. Surely you knew that, Olaf?" asked Esmé suspiciously.

"Yes, indeed, I knew that," Olaf said in a rush. "Now, where to find it..."

"Oh, come on, Olaf, _everyone_ knows that you walk down the street and turn left at the end," Esmé replied as though this was the simplest thing in the world.

"Oh, OK," Olaf said distractedly. "But in case you haven't noticed, I don't work here every day, like some people do. And why -" Olaf half-roared out of frustration "- are you bumping into me all the time? Can't you see where you're going?"

"Sorry, Olaf, dear," said Esmé, without really meaning it. "But it's these coloured contact lenses. They're in at the moment, so I just _have _to wear them."

"But you don't _need _contacts," Olaf said incredulously. "You don't even need glasses!"

Esmé sighed. "Haven't I already told you, Olaf? It's the in thing at the moment, so I just have to be seen wearing them." She waved poshly to some random passers-by, grinning widely.

"Well, I don't like it."

"Put up with it," Esmé said crisply. "After all, I _am _the city's sixth most important financial advisor, and you can't do this operation without me."

Olaf grumbled in defeat. "Fine, fine... Is this the bank?"

They had finally reached Mulctuary Money Management: a tall, prestigious building, constructed of fine white marble, that had definitely seen better years and now turning a depressing grey colour. They entered, with their minds full of twisting, scheming plots, and, of course, money.

"You have the announcement ready, I presume?" asked Esmé.

"Mmm."

"Good. Now. You will talk to the manager, while I go and sign in. And -" she added sharply "- try not to use violence."

"Oh, but -"

"No buts. You do what I say, or you're in this alone. Besides," she said sweetly, "this is a team effort."

Olaf grumbled again.

As planned, Esmé went to sign in at the reception, and Olaf went to see the manger. I will describe only Olaf's meeting with the manger, as it is much more interesting than Esmé putting on a special badge to say where she works.

Olaf went over to a member of staff. "Excuse me," he said in his most polite voice, "Could I speak to the manger?" Then he added, with a shudder, "Please?"

"Certainly, Sir," he replied. "Right this way."

But before he started to lead Olaf to the manger's office, he couldn't help but stare at Olaf's ridiculous costume.

Olaf grew angry. "What on earth do you think - I mean, what are you looking at, that is so odd, that would distract you from leading me to the manger?"

"Oh. Umm... Sorry, Sir," the cashier said hesitantly. "Err, right this way." And with that, the cashier turned and led the way to the manager's office.

On arriving, the assistant knocked on the manager's door. It opened, and out stepped -

No one.

The assistant looked down. "A customer to see you, Sir," he said.

Count Olaf looked down too, and almost suddenly, burst out laughing.

"Why," he said, in a mockingly high tone, "it's a wee little lep-ro-corn!"

"Silence!" screeched the manger. "I am a dwarf, not a 'lep-ro-corn'. At least I'm not a clown."

"Grrr, it's 'ringleader', you -" Olaf started, but his greed took over, "Why, I mean, I am Count Olaf. Surely you remember me?"

"Oh! Yes, ye - no. Who?"

"A - err - friend of Esmé, the city's sixth most important financial advisor."

"Oh! Now I remember. You're that actor with all the strange assistants, aren't you?"

Olaf feigned a smile. "Yes," he said through the strange smile, "that would be me, wouldn't it..."

"Well, we're not going to stand here all day, are we, Omar? Come in!"

"Olaf."

"Yes, whatever. I do always like a visit from an old friend. Now, make yourself comfortable!"

Olaf sat down on the nearest available chair and glanced around the room. There was an assortment of multicoloured balloons strewn about, as though they were the remnants of a birthday party.

"Celebrating something?" Olaf asked as a particularly lurid - a word which here means 'brightly coloured' - balloon threatened to engulf him entirely.

"What?" the manger asked as though he hadn't heard a word. "Oh - the balloons? Ah, no! I just love to collect balloons, 'tis all!"

"Even though they're all nearly four feet taller than you?" Olaf asked sarcastically. It was true - the dwarf had to look up for what seemed like miles to take a good look at the coloured enormities floating overhead.

"Yes!" the manger cried. "Of course! In fact, the taller, the better! The bigger the better! In fact there was this one certain balloon I got from Peru..."

Olaf growled a sigh. He had no time for this!

"Mr - erm -" Olaf interrupted loudly.

"...See there, that one - wh - huh? Oh! Yes! My name! Ah, I am Mr. Rodna. At your service! What can I do for you? Oh, wait, let me guess! You've come to open an account! Oh, no that's not it... Ah! You want to be a banker! We -"

"Actually," Count Olaf said irritably, "I've come to ask for a favour. You see, my friend Esmé and I, we were wondering...

"Yes?" Mr. Rodna leaned closer, suddenly interested. Anything for a bit of the green stuff.

"We were wondering if, since we've come back, you could - sort of - fix things to how they were before? You know, put Esmé in charge of the Baudelaire fortune? Come on, it'll be fun. Just like old times."

"The Baudelaire fortune?" Mr. Rodna asked. "Isn't that... Err... Mr. Pot in charge of that?"

"Poe," Olaf said without thinking.

"Oh yes, that's the one. But wouldn't that mean a job cut? I don't usually replace my employees. And Mr. Pan is a new recruit! He's only been here five years. And you were saying you were in charge of the Baudelaire account before him?"

"That's right," said Olaf smugly and produced some sheets from the roll of papers, now not held together by an elastic band. "See here, I have some papers for my proof of work. It need only be for a day, I just want to get into the... Feel... Of banking again. You see I am applying for a job around Tedia, and I thought this might do of a bit of good."

None of these statements were true, of course, but with the identification papers, they all look the same to experienced managers, so they were most likely to pass. Handing over the fake certificates, Olaf reviewed the situation in his mind. He had been lucky so far; he had managed to steal a car, kidnap three orphans, leave a circus on its own, and forced himself to be seen with that ridiculous girl of his, with her hideous 'in' styles. He had been through a lot today. The worst the manger could do now was refuse...

"Yes, these look alright to me," he said, smiling. "Now, about that offer of yours - most peculiar, I must say. But, considering all the legal aspects, I have just one thing to say: why not?"

Internally, Count Olaf sighed with relief. Mr. Rodna had agreed. The plan was going to take action...

"So when do we start work?" Olaf asked eagerly.

"Well, right now, if you wish! I'm pleased that you're so eager!"

Right at that moment, Esmé marched into the office, with the promised badge that gleamed on her 'stylish' tweed jacket.

"And here she is, the main woman herself!" Mr. Rodna cried with joy.

"Everything's sorted, pumpkin," said Olaf in a would-be sweet voice. "We can start work now, if we wish."

"That would be perfect," she replied with a sly grin. "Come on, Olaf."

Count Olaf got up and they both walked out of the room. The manger smiled. 'Nice people', he thought, 'but what would they do with an account?'

He picked up the announcer.

Olaf and Esmé were walking through the bank, towards the account offices, just as an announcement rang out over the building.

"Will staff and customers please take note," the voice of Mr. Rodna said, "there has been a slight change in the normal procedures today. Mr. Poe, congratulations! You've just earned yourself the day off! We now have two lovely people to take your place - only for the day, no worries. And after that, we'll have a party to celebrate! And I'll bring some of my balloons over, too! Yes! It'll..."

All the members of staff groaned outwardly at the last few comments. How many parties did they have each week? And those darned balloons! Monstrous oddities that floated about the place. They could all do without those things cascading - a posh word meaning 'falling' - down on them.

"How long has that jolly manger been working here?" Esmé asked Olaf icily.

"I dunno," Olaf snapped, but asked one of the nearby employees.

"Mr. Rodna has worked here for over a year now. Much better than that Poe guy, I think. He's now in charge of the Baudelaire account."

"Not anymore," Count Olaf said with a grin.

"Now, now, Olaf," Esmé said sweetly, "don't make it seem too sinister! We are here for a good cause, after all!" She laughed a laugh that was evidently meant to be casual and jolly, but it came out as an evil cackle. Slightly alarmed, the employee turned away, back to his work.

Looking around them, Count Olaf and Esmé could only see row upon row of desks and workers.

"Where do we go now?" Olaf hissed.

In his office, Mr. Poe shifted uncomfortably. He had just lost his job for the day. By who? What had he done, to make Mr. Rodna think differently about him? And it was only for the day. If anything said 'suspicious' to him, it would have to be that. Who could be behind this? Little did Mr. Poe know that the answer was waiting just outside the door.


End file.
